


On the Unnatural Magnetism of Battle Pillows

by Bobcatmoran



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Battle Pillows, Canon Era, Gen, Humor, SCIENCE!, gratuitous use of magnets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 21:37:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2522651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bobcatmoran/pseuds/Bobcatmoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bahorel has a battle pillow that generates massive amounts of static electricity. Joly attempts to assist with magnets and scientific expertise (of sorts).</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Unnatural Magnetism of Battle Pillows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tritonvert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tritonvert/gifts).



> This is a sequel of sorts to [this fic,](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2447015) although it can hopefully stand on its own. Written as a gift for NeedsMoreResearch on Tumblr, aka tritonvert on AO3, as part of the Les Mis Trick-or-Treat exchange.

The knock at the door came unexpectedly at an hour when Bahorel was of the opinion that most sane people would still be asleep.

Joly was apparently not a sane person. “Good morning!” he said, far too cheerful for the hour. 

“Oh my lord, what,” Bahorel said. “Why are you awake and why are you standing outside my door?”

Joly frowned. “It's nearly eight o'clock. Is that…oh, I suppose it is still early. Sorry, I forget not everyone keeps medical student hours. Early hospital rounds, y'know.”

“Well, come in, come in, so long as you're here,” Bahorel said. “Give me a moment to make myself decent.” 

“I brought pastries!” Joly called in the direction of the bedroom as Bahorel disappeared into it. “You like those cheese-filled ones from Arnal's, right?” 

“You had best not be lying about that,” Bahorel's voice echoed from the bedroom. “Tempting a man with such a thing and then witholding it is a terrific crime, you know.”

“I figured if I were to be making a visit at this hour, unannounced, breakfast would be suitable compensation,” Joly said. “I can set it out if you like.”

“Please. Dishes are next to the basin by the stove.”

Joly busied himself setting out pastries, cups, and saucers. “Bahorel,” he asked, “where do you keep your coffee?”

“In the cupboard, but allow me to do it. You'll never find the grinder. Give me two seconds.” Bahorel emerged, wearing a waistcoat that was an alarming shade of orange, hair combed back neatly, and coffee grinder in hand. At Joly's puzzled glance at the grinder, Bahorel said, “I told you that you'd never find it. Certain people ― and by certain people I mean Prouvaire ― cannot be restrained from using it for all manner of non-coffee substances, and thus I have to hide it so that I do not find my coffee tasting of whatever foul root or seeds he has chosen to use it for.” Bahorel fiddled with the grinder, making adjustments. “So what brings you here at this unholy hour, anyway? I thought you had lecture at this time.”

“Dupuytren did not show, and after half an hour, we all decided that it was too fine a morning to be shut up in a stuffy lecture hall, and left.”

“Ha! A wise decision indeed! The air of a lecture hall undoubtedly carries all manner of unwholesome miasmas, laced with the despair and boredom of generations of students.”

“Which is undoubtedly why you yourself are rarely to be found in one,” Joly said, smiling.

“Precisely. Hand me the coffeepot, would you, Joly? Thank you.” 

A rustling of fabric came from behind the sofa, and a blue-ticked pillow shuffled out, making a beeline towards Joly, who turned towards the sound. “Oh, hello!” he exclaimed, followed by an “ow” as the pillow made contact with his leg, delivering an audible shock. “I see this one with the odd, silk-like ticking is still quite _shocking_.”

Bahorel rolled his eyes at the pun. “Yes, that hasn't changed. It's friendly enough ― probably one of the most domestic ones I've ever seen, but that, what did you call it, frictional electricity that it builds up as it moves is still an issue. It sleeps out here because the others still refuse contact.” 

“Poor thing,” Joly said. He reached down to pet the pillow, and it snuggled into his touch.

“All right,” Bahorel said, bringing the coffee to the table. “Satchel,” he gestured with the coffeepot, “off the table. We are civilized men here, more or less.” 

Joly set it on the floor with a heavy 'clack.' 

“Good god, what do you have in there?” Bahorel asked. 

“Magnets, mostly. Also some wire, and rags to wrap around the wire if needed,” Joly said. 

“Dare I ask?” Bahorel said, pouring the coffee.

“Mm,” Joly responded, holding up a finger as he chewed and swallowed hurriedly. “Oh my sweet deity, Bahorel, are you sure you don't want to try any of this? _Pain au chocolat_ ,” he added, nudging the plate in Bahorel's direction. 

“No thank you,” Bahorel said firmly. “How you can eat something so sweet this early is beyond me.”

“Because chocolate is an excellent source of energy,” Joly said. “And it is a perfect accompaniment to coffee. Surely nature would not have created two flavors that harmonize so well if they were not meant to be consumed together.”

“Sometimes I wonder how much of your theorizing is actual science and how much is just you trying to find justification for your actions.”

Joly grinned. “A little of both, usually. Ah! But the magnets, those are pure science. See, Combeferre pointed me towards a fascinating article about electric magnets.”

“Electric magnets?” Bahorel echoed.

“Yes. This fellow, an Englishman named Sturgeon, wound wire around an ordinary bar of iron, then connected it to a battery and lo! The bar of iron became a magnet.”

“It what?”

“It became a magnet, as effective or moreso than one of the ones I have in my bag, able to attract and hold a substantial weight. At least, I think that is what it said. The article was in English, and my skills in that language are rather lacking, so I had to ask that friend of Courfeyrac's for assistance ― Pontmercy, remember him?”

“That fellow who had that outburst about Bonaparte? Hard to forget such an odd duck.”

“Yes, well, anyway, he is working as a translator and assisted me with some of the trickier bits. Neither of us could quite parse some of the more technical language, I'm afraid, but I think I understood the general theory of it. And it got me to thinking about that blue pillow of yours, with its odd ability to generate its own electric charge. If electricity can produce a strong magnetic effect, could not magnets affect electricity?" 

Bahorel looked skeptical, but motioned for Joly to continue.

“You see, both electricity and magnetism produce invisible fields ― you can see the magnet's field if you scatter iron filings about one. The filings will arrange themselves into arcs around the ends of the magnet. And it holds that electricity must also emit some sort of force field ― witness how you can be shocked by, say, your pillow without actually contacting it. Perhaps this new experiment shows that the magnetic and electric fields are one and the same!”

“But magnets don't give people that jolting shock the way electricity does,” Bahorel pointed out.

“Still, I think the two must be strongly related, so with your permission, I'd like to try rigging up a sort of magnetic harness for your blue pillow. You said your attempts at training it to discharge its electricity into metal before coming into contact with others had not worked, right?”

“Well, it hasn't worked on any sort of consistent basis. It _might_ touch metal first if I sort of poke it in that direction, but the pillows are by and large independent thinkers, unwilling to take direction if they see no point in it.”

“Much like their owner.” Joly grinned.

“Well, as long as it will not harm Little Blue here, I see no reason to stand in the way of scientific progress. Only ― what in the world?” Bahorel trailed off upon seeing what had happened to the blue pillow during the course of breakfast. It now had an assortment of pins and other debris stuck to a small portion of its midsection. Sparks were arcing between two of the pins as the pillow shuffled its way across the carpet.

Joly stared at this strange sight in astonishment, eyes huge, before diving down for his satchel. “The rags I had brought along are gone, along with one of my stronger magnets,” Joly's despondent voice came from under the table. 

“Greedy little devil,” Bahorel muttered, glaring at the offending pillow. Some of the other battle pillows had emerged from the bedroom and were curiously approaching the blue pillow. Bahorel then noticed that Joly had re-emerged with his head down on the table, buried in his arms. His shoulders were shaking, and he was making an odd muffled sound. “Joly, are you ― are you all right? You're not _crying_ , are you? I know those magnets are quite important to you, but ―“

 Joly raised his head, and the sound resolved itself into laughter. “It's, it's,” he stammered out between giggles, “I've never seen such a sight.” He hiccuped, then laughed some more. “The, the little sparks. And ― _hic_ ― it _ate_ one of my magnets. _Hic_ ―oh my word, Bahorel, do you even feed your pillows?”

“I'll have you know they are very well fed indeed. Perhaps a bit too well, even,” Bahorel said in mock indignation. 

Some of the other pillows made to approach the blue pillow, only to jerk back as a series of sparks arced from it with a particularly loud chain of pops.

Joly laughed even harder, hiccuping occasionally. “It ― _hic_ ― it won't get indigestion, will it?” he asked.

“Hopefully not,” Bahorel said, as they watched the strange display in front of them. “With luck, you may even be able to get your magnet back intact, er, more or less.”

“Well, that's ― _hic_ ― that's good, I suppose.” 

A scuffling sound from underneath the table caught their attention. Joly and Bahorel bent down to investigate and were confronted with the odd sight of two battle pillows stuck together, ineffectively trying to pull themselves apart.

“You don't suppose…” Bahorel said, as Joly checked his satchel.

“Empty, except for this,” Joly said, holding up a length of wire that looked as though something had been chewing on it. “Well, that does it for my magnets.” He hiccuped again. “Oh, well. I might not have been able to ― _hic_ ― able to assist you the way I wanted, but at least we've learned one thing.”

“Oh? And what's that?”

“Battle pillows,” Joly said, grinning wider, “find magnets a very _attractive_ snack.”

**Author's Note:**

> Frictional electricity was an early term for static electricity, so named because it was first observed as the result of friction between two substances, i.e. rubbing glass with a silk handkerchief.
> 
> William Sturgeon constructed the first electromagnet in 1824. The theory behind how and why it worked, though, would have to wait a few more years. Electromagnets would eventually find widespread use in telegraphs and electric motors, among a multitude of other uses.
> 
> Physics is decidedly not my area of expertise, so I apologize for any errors in the science here ~~and blame them on Joly and Marius' lousy translation job~~.


End file.
